Of course - not!

When the best part of a course is escaping for a few minutes to buy five copies of The Echo, then perhaps, just perhaps something is not going quite as the course leaders hoped.

I learned little or nothing on the course, but then I didn’t really expect to. Self fulfilling prophecy.

This was a tired course with uninspiring printed material which failed to distinguish itself either as text book for later reading or as interactive pages to ignite discussion. It is a sure sign of a course that needs to be ditched when the course leaders mock and sneer at some of the statements. They showed no ownership of this course. They should have rewritten it some time ago or ditched it altogether.

This third day was completely lacking in dynamism: extended breaks; broken promises; rubbishing of course content; disaffected course members; early finish. It all mounts up to a course which really is not delivering. At the end of the course you wondered about the finances and weather it was all worth it.

The venue got steadily worse with noisy comings and goings. At times I felt as though I was being taught in a station waiting room! The flimsy course completion certificate seemed to be a suitable metaphor for the whole experience.

A whole new saga of my CRB is developing. Someone somewhere is not telling me the strict truth.

The story so far includes the usual disbelief at the length of time that the powers that be take to provide a certificate but complicated by the conflicting stories of the main players.

I signed the application form on the 12th of March and assumed that it would be countersigned and sent off immediately. This, I am assured by the agency which gave me the paperwork, is exactly what happened. From time to time I have contacted the agency to find out what was happening to my application. I have been assured that the CRB has been phoned and progress checked.

It was with angry astonishment that when I finally phoned the CRB myself on May 1st, I was told that my application had arrived in the building on the 30th of April and the process had been started on the very day on which I was phoning. My enquiry about the number of times that anyone had phoned about my application drew the response, “None.” I was assured (this time by the CRB) that any enquiries would have been added to my file.

The agency’s response has been more bluster than anything else and the confidently, reassuringly silky voice of the agency manager produced exactly the opposite effect from that which she intended. After her oily dismissal of the CRB and her gloatingly smug declaration that the CRB had accepted blame and my claim had been accelerated, I felt unaccountably uncomfortable. How to explain the inexplicable? According to the manager, my application must have spent some time on the desk of someone in the CRB. They are like that, she intimated.

That prompted me to phone the CRB again and put to them what had just been put to me. They were not, it might be said, happy with the version of events the manager relayed. Neither, it must be said, am I. This story will run and run!

Our thoughts are turning more and more to Gran Canaria – though not to the exclusion of worries about the lack of movement on the house.

Sigh!